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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422969">Scars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandpixies/pseuds/angelsandpixies'>angelsandpixies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Steven Universe (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comfort, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, connverse - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:47:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandpixies/pseuds/angelsandpixies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a headcanon by @quartzboysteven (twitter) / stevenquartz (tumblr) where Steven has scars as a result of the events of "I Am My Monster" (corresponding posts about said headcanon linked in author's notes)</p>
<p>Steven's been on the road for a while now, and he finally has a chance to go to the beach again. However, he's hesitant to go due to some anxieties surrounding his scars, so Connie tries to cheer him up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connie Maheswaran &amp; Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Steven Universe Completed Recommended Reads</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Scars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi there! This fic was inspired by and based on the headcanon by @quartzboysteven (twitter) / stevenquartz (tumblr) where Steven has scars as a result of the events of "I Am My Monster." The corresponding posts can be found below:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Twitter versions of the posts:</p>
<p>twitter.com/quartzboysteven/status/1244717266215882756?s=20</p>
<p>twitter.com/quartzboysteven/status/1244743418804424705?s=20</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tumblr versions of the posts:</p>
<p>stevenuniverse.cf/post/614044810130669568/big-galaxy-brain-steven-having-scars-on-his-back</p>
<p>stevenuniverse.cf/post/614050915732848640/what-if-steven-shaves-his-hair-for-some-new-year</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I hope you enjoy! &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a beautiful summer day. The sun was shining, making the temperatures rise to levels considered warmer than warm, but not excruciatingly hot. It was just warm enough to feel the sun on your skin, like an embrace from the sky. The skies were clear, save for a few clouds scattered about, and there was a slight breeze coming from the sea. The perfect day to go to the beach. </p>
<p>It was exactly the kind of weather Steven loved to dig his toes into the sand in, but… he didn’t want to step out of his car. Because if he did that, he would <em>definitely</em> want to go swimming, he hadn’t for so long, but if he did that, then…</p>
<p>The scars along his back felt tighter at the thought. </p>
<p>“Okay, I’ve got the towels set up!” Connie called to Steven while she came back from choosing their spot. He’d asked her to do it, claiming <em>you’re so good at choosing spots for things</em> and <em>I just need to check on something beforehand, I won’t be long!</em> How had she found a spot so fast? It was <em>supposed</em> to take more than five minutes. “I’ve got Lion guarding them, so let’s get going already—Steven?” </p>
<p>Of course, he was so caught off guard by her sudden reappearance that he didn’t have time to mask the anxiety on his face. And now she saw it. And now she was going to ask about it. And now he was going to have to tell her, because he was supposed to be more open now, and because otherwise she would worry, and he would ruin their entire daytrip, and—</p>
<p>
  <em>Calm down, Steven. Calm down.</em>
</p>
<p>“Steven,” Connie was up to the dondai’s window now. Her voice was muffled by the fact that his window was closed (which he knew he shouldn’t do in summer, or at least, not while he was inside it), but he could still hear the worry in her tone. “What’s wrong?” </p>
<p>“Uh—n-nothing!” </p>
<p>Connie looked at him.</p>
<p>He looked at Connie.</p>
<p>… crap, that was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it? Old habits die hard. </p>
<p>“Steven, you know that won’t work. Now please, just… tell me. And open the window, for crying out loud! You’re gonna get heat stroke.”</p>
<p>Steven sighed in defeat and rolled his window down so that it was fully open. Somehow, the lack of a glass barrier made it even harder to look Connie in the eye, so he found himself suddenly very interested in looking at the dashboard. </p>
<p>“Steven.”</p>
<p>He didn’t look at her. He didn’t say a word.</p>
<p>“Look at me.” Her fingertips brushed ever so lightly against his shoulder, telling him that she was there, and she would not hurt him. So finally, he swallowed his pride (more like fear) and looked directly into her eyes. Her gorgeous, loving eyes. </p>
<p>“That’s more like it,” a gentle smile tugged at her lips, and her voice was soft, as tender and caring as her touch. “Now please tell me what’s wrong.”</p>
<p>“I, uh…” somehow, his scars felt heavy on his back, demanding that their presence be known. “I’m… worried. About people seeing me. At the beach.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean? You go to the beach all the time!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, back home, but… they know what happened. They don’t treat me any differently. These people? They… they <em>don’t</em> know.”</p>
<p>“About what?” Confusion painted Connie’s face, one eyebrow arched. Did… did she really not realize, or was this just another way to get him to be more open about his feelings?</p>
<p>Regardless of whether she actually did realize or not, Steven pushed his hair back to reveal the scars on his head, hoping that it would be enough to convey the message and his worries to her.</p>
<p>“<em>Ohhhhh,</em>” understanding tinted her voice and the confusion faded from her expression. </p>
<p>“Yeah…” Steven wanted to say something else in response, but he wasn’t sure what else <em>to</em> say. </p>
<p>When he remained silent, Connie spoke up. “Well… why should you be ashamed of those?”</p>
<p>“Well—” just <em>how</em>, exactly, was he supposed to explain his anxiety to her? Tell her that he was scared of the stares, the questions, the awkward tension? </p>
<p><em>… just do as your therapist says, Steven. Trust that Connie will listen to you. Be open to being vulnerable. You’re not a burden on her by doing so. And just… say it.</em> </p>
<p>“It’s not… i-it’s not that I’m ashamed of them, exactly. Well, maybe I am? But right now, I’m more scared of people… looking at them.” Steven paused to let Connie say something, if she so desired, but she stayed quiet, understanding and encouragement in her eyes. She was urging him to continue, so he did just that. “Staring at them. Judging me for having them. Asking…” anxiety twisted in his gut, “<em>questions</em> about them. How I got them. <em>Why</em> I have them. Like, what do I say to that, you know? ‘Oh, I just turned into a giant monster during a mental breakdown a good while ago, that’s all!’ How would they <em>respond</em> to that? They’d—” his throat was becoming tighter at the imaginary scenarios playing in his head— “they’d treat me differently. They’d feel awkward and uncomfortable around me and not know what to do or say to me because of it. I’d—” tears threatened to prick his eyes— “I’d ruin everyone’s day because of my scars, and <em>my</em> day would be ruined, and <em>your</em> day and everything would just—” he suddenly felt very emotionally drained and was unable to say anything else besides “… everything would just… suck.”</p>
<p>Connie didn’t say anything for a moment, probably allowing Steven to continue. But he didn’t really know what else to say on the matter; he’d spoken his peace. Realizing this, Connie finally decided to speak. “Who says you <em>have</em> to tell them <em>anything?</em>”</p>
<p>“… huh?”</p>
<p>“I mean,” Connie’s eyes looked upwards, deep in thought about the hypotheticals, “it’s not like you owe anyone an explanation. And even if they <em>do</em> stare, who really cares? No one’s opinion about you matters except for… <em>your</em> opinion of you. Besides, they’re all just here to have a good time, just like you are. Realistically, they might notice off-hand that you have some scars, and wonder to themselves ‘huh, I wonder how that happened,’ and go on about their day. No one’s gonna care, Steven. And even if they <em>do</em>, even if someone asks you about it, you can just say you don’t wanna talk about it. If they’re not okay with that, that’s <em>their</em> problem, <em>not</em> yours. Okay?” Connie reached out so both hands were on his shoulder now and gave him another kind smile. </p>
<p>Connie <em>was</em> right. Realistically, no one would really care. And even if they did, he had the option to not tell them about it. He shouldn’t have to be responsible for the problems of complete strangers, and he shouldn’t have to worry about their opinions, either. What mattered most was that he, Connie, and Lion had a good time. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” he said. He still felt the pit of anxiety in his gut and clenching at his throat, but it was eased, somewhat. He could do this. “You’re right. I’ve been wanting to go to the beach again for… a long while now. And I wanna have a good time with you.”</p>
<p>Connie giggled, causing Steven’s heart to swell. She leaned down and gave him a gentle, loving kiss before saying, “so are you ready to get your beach on?”</p>
<p>A big smile formed on Steven’s face as he chuckled and said, “race ya!”</p>
<p>Connie laughed, exclaiming that he didn’t even know where she’d put their towels, but he didn’t care. The couple ran to the beach, Steven’s shirt forgotten in the driver’s seat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it &lt;3</p>
<p>Major shout out to @quartzboysteven (twitter) / stevenquartz (tumblr) for coming up with the original headcanon about the scars!</p>
<p>If you wanna see more about my writing, fanfic or original, feel free to visit my writing twitter, @angelsandpixies!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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